


Sunday

by icedteainthebag



Category: The X-Files
Genre: American Football, F/M, Food Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-05
Updated: 2015-10-05
Packaged: 2018-04-25 00:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4939090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedteainthebag/pseuds/icedteainthebag
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulder and Scully have fun with salsa and the remote.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> One of my very first stories. Imported from my old fic site; originally posted April 8, 1999.

Scully was never a fan of football. She would watch it on occasion with the family on Superbowl Sunday, or with friends. But more frequently, she watched it with Mulder. It had become a Sunday afternoon tradition between them.

Sunday afternoons were quiet at Scully’s apartment. No one called, no one stopped by. Well, except Mulder. It all began one afternoon with a hesitantly accepted invitation. That is, Mulder invited himself over and she hesitantly accepted. He would always bring a snack; pretzels, chips, dip. Nothing she was really interested in eating. He would make his way to the small couch in the living room and plop down like it was his own. He would grab the remote from the side of the couch, sit back, and flip on the game.

They often had small talk during the commercials. He liked it when she sat next to him, his arm straying along the back of the couch. She acted like she didn’t notice. They talked about work, their mothers, the game. Anything that came up that could be adequately discussed in a three minute time span. Then he would go back to the game, and she would go do her laundry or read in the living room, watching him.

This Sunday was like every other. He never called anymore, just showed up around one and rang the doorbell. She let him in and he smiled at her.

"Morning, Scully."

"Mulder, it’s one o’clock."

"Well, I just got up an hour ago." He stretched for more effect.

"I see," she said, her eyes grazing over his body quickly. "I’ve been up for hours."

He caught her eyes on the way back up. "Don’t you ever take a break?"

She blushed slightly. "Um, no…" she tilted her head slightly to the side and walked into the kitchen. He followed her, carrying a plastic bag.

"Well, why don’t you go to the living room and I’ll fix us a snack," Mulder offered, setting the bag on the table.

"You? Fix a snack?" Scully replied, eyebrows raised slightly.

"Just go, Scully. Give your little feet a rest," he smiled, pushing her lightly towards the room.

She sighed and walked away, sitting down on the couch. She picked up the remote absent-mindedly, passing it back and forth between her hands. Until she got an idea.

Mulder entered the room with a bowl of tortilla chips and a jar of salsa. Scully looked up at him and smiled.

"As you ordered, Scully."

"Chips and salsa. You know, Mulder, I think you’re in the wrong profession," she said as he sat down, placing them on the floor. Scully bit her lip to keep from admonishing him about the importance of placing dishes on tables. His eyes scanned the table quickly, the arms of the couch, and down to the ground.

"Scully, have you seen the remote?"

"What, are you too lazy to get up and change the channel yourself?"

Mulder smiled. "Yes, I am. You know. I’m a man." He looked around the room once more and his eyes rested on Scully. She couldn’t help but smile. He sat down next to her.

"Scully, give me the remote."

"I don’t have it, Mulder."

"Yes you do, it’s in your right hand."

Scully shook her head. She bit her lip to keep from giggling. "No, it’s not, Mulder. Maybe it’s under the couch."

He studied her carefully and saw her dancing blue eyes. "Scully, if you don’t give me the remote, I’m going to have to get it from you."

She felt her stomach leap into her throat. She arched an eyebrow and looked down quickly.

"I told you, I don—"

Suddenly Mulder reached out and grabbed her upper arm. "You have it, and I’m getting it," he grinned. She wiggled out of his grasp and tried to get up, but he grabbed around her waist and pulled her back.

She giggled and held the remote tightly in her right hand. Their arms entangled as they began their fight over the cherished remote. His hands fumbled over hers, prying and pulling, as she held on tight. He laughed softly and grabbed both of her wrists, pulling them behind her back and grasping them with one hand. It was soft and warm against her skin.

"What are you going to do now, Scully," he leaned in and said against her ear. She laughed softly and tilted her head away. She held on to the remote as his other hand pulled it harder and harder.

"It’s mine," he said. His breath against her ear was wispy and hot.

"What’s yours?" she whispered, finding herself bold in this position. She turned her face and found him surprisingly close.

Mulder hesitated for a moment, studying her face and her neck. His eyes flickered over her body slowly. She could feel them move, linger, get harder with desire. His mouth moved closer to hers, and he looked into her eyes. Her gaze was one of steely disbelief, yet behind it was soft yearning. He knew it.

Scully could sense the heat of his lips as they lingered barely an inch from hers.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he whispered softly, the breath against her lips making her eyelids flutter slightly.

"Yes," she whispered back, the word sending a chill down her spine as she realized the consequences of it. Three letters she’d always dreamed of saying to him.

Mulder’s lips met hers, pressing softly. Electric. Salt. Skin. She felt it and tasted it as her lips parted slightly. He still had his hand clamped tightly around her wrists. His free hand floated down her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, and then fingers slowly traced down the side of her breast. She gasped softly against his mouth and he flicked his tongue between her lips as a response.

His fingers curled up to cradle her breast, squeezing lightly. She pressed her lips against his harder, grinding their teeth. She wanted her hands free, to touch his body, his hair.

They broke off this kiss and she let her face tilt down a bit. She watched his hand knead her breast through her t-shirt, his palm rubbing the underside artfully. She was breathing a little heavier, and the sound permeated the silent afternoon air. His lips moved against her forehead as he let her hands slip free from his grasp. Now her hands were free. The question was what to do with them.

She dropped the remote onto the cushion of the couch. Her hand ached from holding it so tightly. But the pain was worth the pleasure.

She pressed her hands flat against his shoulders and pushed him back against the couch. She was going to be assertive Scully this afternoon. She didn’t want this opportunity to pass her by; not like the others.

Scully picked up one leg and placed it on his right side, standing on her knees on the couch cushions. He was under her; she was straddling his lap. Gently, slowly, she dipped her head down to kiss his neck. Mulder’s hands wavered slightly in the air as he decided what to do with them. He placed them on her hips. A fine place, he thought, as he moved them slowly up her sides. God, he wanted under that shirt so badly. She nipped and sucked at his ear, and he tilted his head back, sighing softly. Her hands were against his chest, her fingernails pressed against the fabric to lightly tease the skin underneath.

Mulder let a hand stray to her hair and he tugged gently, bringing her head back and exposing the tender skin of the front of her neck. He ran his tongue along the soft ridges and dotted them with feathery kisses. He made no sounds. Lowering herself slowly down onto him, Scully gave in to his mouth. Mulder’s other hand slowly ran down her side and her thigh, clamping around it, thumb circling through the sweatpants on her inner leg.

Scully could feel him hot and hard under her. His sweatpants and jockeys didn’t restrict him much. She moved slightly up against it. He inhaled sharply, biting the side of her neck. Just a little. Enough to make her squirm.

"Scully, I…" he muttered against her throat.

"Hmmm?" she murmured. He felt the vibrations of it on his lips.

"I want to eat some chips."

 

"What?" Scully sat up and looked at him incredulously. Her mouth was slightly open, her expression puzzled.

"Stand up, I want to eat some chips."

She got up from his lap and stood next to him. He was hard, all right. But that didn’t seem to bother him. He was hungry. She couldn’t believe it.

"I don’t believe this," she muttered. He stood up and faced her, a cocky smile on his face. She stared back at him with unforgiving eyes.

"Aww, Scully, what’s wrong?" he said. "You know I wouldn’t eat chips without you."

"I’m not hun—"

Mulder swiftly bent down and picked her up in his arms.

"Woah, woah…Mulder!" she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. "What are you doing?"

"I want to eat some chips," he repeated, looking her in the eyes. "I want you to lay down on the table."

"The table? Mulder, it’s going to break. MULDER! I swear it’s going to break!!" She giggled and squirmed as he gently laid her down on the table.

"Scully, if you don’t quit wiggling around, you’re going to fall off the damn thing."

She laid still, her arms crossed over her torso. Mulder was standing over her. "What in the hell are you doing."

"Close your eyes, Scully. I’m going to eat some chips."

She bit her lip and closed her eyes, wondering what eating chips meant to this man.

He kneeled next to the table. She could sense his every move. He took each of her hands and placed them at her sides gently. She shifted a little bit and made a face.

"Mulder, I’m going to ask you again, one more time, what is going on?"

"Scully, you know how I hate repeating myself," he replied, smoothing his hands under her t-shirt slowly. His fingers just reached the skin over her ribcage and moved back down. Then he tugged up on her t-shirt slightly, and Scully taking it as an invitation to rise a bit off the table so that he could slip it over her head.

She laid back on the table, the glass cold against her back. Her hands flat against the tabletop. Long fingers grazed lightly over her chest and tummy, around her belly button, along her waistband. Scully resisted the urge to shift her body around, afraid of breaking the table. She began wondering whether the table could hold the weight of both of them. Naughty, Scully, very naughty.

His fingers wandered up her sides and lightly under her breasts. Her bra, like her skin, felt like silk. He leaned down and opened his mouth, breathing against her stomach slowly. He saw her writhe slightly as he placed his mouth below her belly button and sucked softly on the sensitive skin. He nipped at it, teeth grazing lightly over the surface. A car drove by, honking its horn. The noise that penetrated the silence did nothing to disguise her soft whimper.

Mulder picked up the jar of salsa, and Scully heard the trademark pop of the lid as he opened it.

"What was that?" she asked softly, eyebrows arching.

"Pace Picante Sauce…extra hot…get a rope," Mulder said slowly.

"Oh, so now you eat your chips." She opened her eyes and looked across her breasts at him.

"No, Scully, don’t," he whispered, putting his hand across her eyes. She sighed.

"Am I boring you?" he smiled, taking his hand away.

"Not yet," Scully said. She was proud of herself for being so damn bold.

He chuckled and she felt a warm tingle down her body. This was comfortable to her. It seemed right. It was right.

He tipped the salsa jar slightly. A few streams of red juice dribbled out onto her ribs. She gasped loudly.

"You all right?" he asked, watching the small rivers trail down her side.

"Oh God…yeah…just cold…"

He tipped it a little more and a spoonful of salsa dropped just below her breastbone. She laughed softly and he watched it slowly slide down the soft incline into the hollow of her stomach. He bit his lip.

Never had salsa looked so tantalizing.

He picked up a tortilla chip from Scully’s dark blue bowl. Slowly and carefully, he slid the edge of the chip against her skin, into the salsa. She moaned softly, arching her back. He saw her nipples grow hard through the silky fabric covering them.

Mulder lifted the chip with salsa to his lips and popped the whole thing into his mouth. Scully salsa. How sweet it was. And damn hot.

"Good?" she whispered, hearing his crunching.

She felt his tongue against her stomach. Long laps at her stomach.

It curled up to catch some of the salsa. She breathed out and a small sigh voiced its appreciation at the gesture.

He knew she was enjoying it because of the noises she was making as he ate the salsa off of her skin. It was driving him nuts, this slow torture. He could feel himself rock hard and pulsing already. But he wanted more Scully salsa. He wanted to taste her more.

He sucked lightly at her ribcage, swirling his tongue around against the softly defined bones. She arched her back again, feeling his hair against the underside of her breast. Oh God, he was making her nuts. She gasped softly, leaving her lips parted. Tongue flicking across her teeth.

His mouth was on fire. He wanted her to feel it too.

Moving up until his lips were an inch from hers, he watched her eyelids. He could tell she felt him so close. Her lips were separated, her breathing heavier.

"Kiss me."

She sounded so sure of it. Knowing what she wanted was him.

He must not have moved quick enough, because she lifted her head to meet his lips and pressed hard against them. He put his hand on the back of her head and pushed her back down with his lips. Her hair was soft and smelled like peaches.

Scully felt a hot tingle, the remnants of spices on his lips and in his mouth. She moved her lips slowly against his, biting his lower lip and letting go as she opened her eyes. He was looking at her still as he broke off the kiss.

"Well?" he said. Impish smile.

"Mulder…" she whispered, "it’s like waking up from a dream, and realizing that finally… you’re not dreaming."

He pulled her up gently, his hands under her arms. As Scully sat on the table with him kneeling between her legs, his arms slid around her to the small of her back. He kissed her legs through her sweatpants and her stomach as he massaged upwards. Her hands found the back of his neck and kneaded the tension out of it.

His hands reached the clasp of her bra. "Do you like this bra?" he whispered against her stomach.

"It’s all right…" she responded breathily.

He grabbed the clasp and tugged. Hard and fast. She gasped, realizing he had broken the clasp as her straps slipped down her arms.

"I’ll buy you another one."

"It’s all r—" Scully answered, interrupted by his hard kiss. His hands pushed down the straps and pulled the bra off of her chest, throwing it across the room. She kissed back hard. He was gentle yet savage. It was turning her on.

His mouth moved down from hers, over her breastbone, between her breasts. She moved her hips against him a little, tightening her legs against his hips. Feeling very naughty about how wet she was getting.

His mouth moved over her nipples and she shivered involuntarily. She never knew that a tongue could move that fast, that skillfully.

He could feel her, hot and damp. He nibbled and licked, grazing and pressing his teeth against the salty surface of her skin. She shifted anxiously against his body. He slid his hand down her flat tummy and, with one hand at the small of her back, pushed his fingers into her sweatpants and panties. Curious fingers took their time sliding downwards, eventually reaching the warmth and wetness.

"Mulder—" she moaned, amidst small unintelligible noises. She grabbed his hair and pushed herself against his hand. It kneaded softly, sending little sporadic impulses that made her gasp. His thumb found her sensitive spot, and his fingers found her opening. He tickled her lightly with his fingertips, tracing around and slightly inside. Thrusting two fingers in her, suddenly, in and out, again and again, and she rocked slightly back as he suckled a breast.

"You want it harder?" he asked gruffly, breath against her nipple.

"Yes," she muttered through clenched teeth.

The hand that was holding her back disappeared as he pushed her down on her back. Mulder’s fingers curled inside of her as he rubbed them hard against her pelvic bone. He tugged hard at her panties and sweatpants with his free hand. She reached down and pulled them to her knees. He did the rest without slowing his fingers down. Slender white legs snaked around his waist and squeezed. He did it harder. Faster. Harder and faster. She was whimpering like there was no tomorrow.

"Mulder…I’m gonna…" she whimpered in a soft, meek Scully voice. Her hips slammed against his hand as he felt the muscles against his fingers spasm. Her back arched and she gripped the sides of the table, slowly bringing herself down.

He wanted her so badly.

Mulder stood up, licking his fingers. Tugging down his pants and jockeys, Scully looked up and saw it for the first time. Hard, hot, and ready. Like she had always imagined in her unmentionable dreams.

She looked up at him, biting her lip to keep from smiling. He took it as an invitation. He got down on his knees next to the table, and grabbed her legs.

Oh my God, Scully thought, my mother’s coffee table. I hope dad built it strong.

Wrapping her legs around him, she felt him pull her hips towards the edge of the table. She could feel him hard against her warmth and she bucked up slightly.

Mulder grinned. "You like it, huh." His eyes were on fire. Emeralds on fire.

"I don’t know yet." She grinned back.

"How can I help you decide?" he asked, pressing up against her.

"Oh God Mulder, just…mmm…"

Her hips writhed next to his. He couldn’t wait any longer. He drove himself into her without warning, causing her to cry out softly, her hands gripping the table until her knuckles turned white. He knew she was all right. Her mouth slightly agape, but with a smile and a sigh.

He started to move quickly, all the way in, all the way out. Her hips slamming in rhythm with his. Damn, was she good. His knees were gonna be really rugburned after this.

Tilting his head back slightly, he watched her facial expressions, her body movements. The sweat beads as the formed on her abdomen.

Her muscles tightened around him. And he thought it was tight already.

"God, Scully. You know what you’re doing to me…" he uttered through his teeth. He slowed down and began long, powerful strokes into her. The table creaked softly. Neither one heard it. With every stroke she whimpered. He felt himself aching to explode inside of her. Trying to hold off.

Mulder’s fingers reached her clit and softly rubbed in circles. Scully bucked her body up, and the motion made him groan softly. Her petite body shivered with deep shots of pleasure. He had dreamed of this so many times. The memories of this moment would supply dream material for the rest of his life.

Holding off was doing no good at this point. "Scully, I…" he whispered, as much of a vocalization as he could.

"Do it…" she whispered. "Oh, God, Mulder!"

Oh, God, Scully…

He came inside of her with a hard thrust, a small moan escaping his lips. He kept going, but slowing himself at increased sensitivity. Wisps of hair were plastered to her forehead, but she still looked like an angel.

She stared up at him, chest heaving, her body aware of nothing but this man and this moment and this god damn coffee table that was squeaking like hell. Scully slowed her hips, slowed her breathing. Everything slowed. Even blinking. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing sweaty body against sweaty body. Mulder licked the salt off of her neck and rested his head there.

"You know what I like, Scully," Mulder said breathlessly.

"I can guess, Mulder," she smiled softly.

"I like feeling myself inside of you. So safe…warm and…Scully, you’re my everything."

She tightened her grip around his neck.

"You’re everything to me too."

Their lips met, as if they had choreographed the moment. The kiss was soft and sweet. They rested against each other, limbs entangled, their bodies relaxing, calming, cooling.

"Mulder…" Scully whispered.

"Yeah?"

"You missed the game."

"Yeah."

"I wonder who won."

"I did."


End file.
